How Did I Get Here?
by linnell
Summary: Future Rentfic... Mark catches up with some old friends and things are definately different from where he left them.
1. Default Chapter

A/N: Retirement? What retirement? A slew of good fics have inspired me. The tone of the prologue is different from the rest of the story (which of course hasn't been written yet). Ok, go forth and read, review, discuss…  
  
Right now they all belong to Jonathan Larson.  
  
  
  
How did I get here?  
  
Prologue  
  
He couldn't believe it. He just stood there with a smile on his face watching her, watching them, watching them all. Maureen was in all her glory. Her audience hung on her every word. And Roger…Roger was out of the house. And he had met someone. He looked over at them, sitting close, but not too close. Collins also had found someone new that night. But he and his new love had already become one, their arms wrapped around each other as if they had always belonged there.  
  
He watched Joanne running from the amplifier to the microphone, barely making it in time to do the backups. He could see the daggers Maureen sent her way, and Joanne pretending not to cower in fear. He pushed away the pangs of jealousy that were rising inside of him.  
  
But who was he jealous of most of all?  
  
It was a strange night, that much he knew. He felt the energy rustling inside him. Nights like these were the reason he moved to New York. Anything could happen and most definitely something would. He found himself mooing along with the crowd at his ex-girlfriends command.  
  
Only one remained silent. He was the only other lone figure amongst the scattered crowd. Mark's former best friend, and now his adversary. It was only a little bit more than a year ago that Mark stood next to Benny in a rented tuxedo while Benny and Alison exchanged their vows. How things had changed, Alison was nowhere to be seen, and Mark and Benny barely exchanged glances.  
  
The night was almost perfect. His friends were all happy, the snow was falling steadily and for once he didn't care that he was alone.  
  
Ten months later he again stood alone, this time at a phone booth. The near perfection of that night plagued him as the days and nights that followed chipped away at the harmony. Helplessly he stood by and watched them betray, hurt, leave and even die. He did everything he knew how to do to keep them together, and yet they unraveled without his permission.  
  
Roger was the first to leave the church and Mark wanted to say a few things to him. He wanted to tell him that running away wouldn't solve anything, and didn't he see they needed him? The musician looked strange to him without his guitar, and Mark clutched his own camera worried that it could leave him too.  
  
The rest flowed out of the church, no longer as a unit, but as individuals. Mimi attacked Roger first and Mark watched the chaos unfold. He tried to stop it, but like usual he was invisible to them all. None of them even glanced his way.  
  
He should have given up then.  
  
A few months later, they began to fix themselves. They didn't need him and he didn't know what to do. Roger came back, Mimi was getting clean, and here he was, holding on. But to what?  
  
He made up some story about a job waiting for him. He was purposely vague about his destination, just told them 'out west'. He lied, told them he would be back as soon as he sold his film. They had thrown him a party and he smiled and laughed and inside he was screaming to escape.  
  
After all, he thought, wouldn't it be better to actually be alone than to feel lonely amongst those he loved? 


	2. Chapter One

"Ma… Ma… I know! Yeah, look I have to go!" Emma tossed a stack of papers on my desk and another phone began to ring, "Mom! Listen, call V and talk to her, ok? Mom, look I have to go." I pulled the cell phone from my ear and turned it off and rolled my eyes towards Emma. "Jesus, she picks now to yell at me for not inviting my Aunt Gertrude, who I haven't seen since I was ten years old mind you, to the wedding." My head collapsed on the table, "What are these?"  
  
"Mr. Cohen, they are…"  
  
"Mark."  
  
"I'm sorry, Mark, they are notes on the guests for today's show. Miranda thought you would want them."  
  
"Great, just what I need. I'm the producer, aren't I the one who scheduled the guests?" I shuffled through the papers not really looking at them.  
  
"Well, some of the guests cancelled after Miranda's talk with the pregnant 11 year old last week."  
  
"Oh right, the one that was in love with her step-brother. Hmm… well what do we got then?"  
  
"Oh, Jason Priestly, some band… uh… The Twentynothings… and a woman who makes her dog wear costumes."  
  
"She should be shot."  
  
Emma laughed, "Well is that ok?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." My phone began ringing again and the caller ID quickly revealed that it was Vanessa, my fiancée, on the other line. "I'm so sorry." I answer, knowing that my mother is the last person she wanted talk to.  
  
"Mark, who is this Aunt Gertrude?"  
  
"No one, don't worry about."  
  
"Well apparently she is coming to our wedding on Sunday."  
  
"No. She isn't. Look, I'll talk to my mother."  
  
"Vanessa dear…" She spoke in a clear imitation of my mother, "My aunt Gertrude is 92 years old. She has been waiting to see Marky marry a nice Jewish girl her whole life. Make an old lady happy."  
  
I laugh into the phone. "I'm sorry, baby."  
  
"Whatever. I don't care. How much room can a 92 year old lady take anyway?"  
  
"Uh, don't ask."  
  
She giggled, "Ok, are you almost done there? We have a lot of things to do before our flight."  
  
"Yeah, there is a show about to be taped, when that is done I'll leave."  
  
"What, they aren't throwing you a party?"  
  
"Why would they? They don't know where I'm going."  
  
"You mean you didn't tell your staff you are going home to get married in the same Synagogue you went to as a child?"  
  
"Vanessa…"  
  
"Do I need to call Emma?"  
  
"No, she knows."  
  
"Good. Now hurry up and get home!"  
  
I hung up the phone and walked out of my office. Things were unusually quiet, especially that a show was schedule to start filming in thirty minutes. I walked around the studio and didn't see a soul. I finally walked into Miranda's office and flicked on the lights.  
  
"SURPRISE!"  
  
Oh fuck. Sometimes my stupidity even shocks me. "Oh wow!" I fake laughed as I walked into the room. A big banner hung across her window and Marty carried out a cake. "Guys, I'm just going on vacation for a few weeks, no need to throw a party!"  
  
"Oh Cohen, whatever. Emma told us you were getting married. Don't worry, none of us are hurt that you didn't invite us." I smiled and shrugged.  
  
"Sorry guys, you know how it is."  
  
"Yeah, besides you must have tons of friends in New York to invite, right?"  
  
My smile faded for a moment as I remembered them, but just as I have done for the last five years I shook it away. "Yeah, friends and family. Vanessa too."  
  
I got hugs from everyone and soon people started trickling away to begin the taping of the show. Since Miranda hadn't been to make-up yet, they started with the band. Emma and I walked toward the soundstage as she tossed questions at me about what she should do while I was gone. "Take a vacation" was all I could tell her.  
  
We were stopped by a few more people to wish me luck and while they were talking my mind wandered to the band playing a few feet away. They were familiar, but yet I knew I hadn't heard of them. "Emma, who are these guys again?"  
  
"The Twenynothings… they are from New York."  
  
"Oh, right." I stopped and listened again, and just as the singer hit the last note, it hit me. Roger. Only Roger could hit a note like that. I looked around at the small group I was standing with, sure that they could feel my panic. My heart was racing and my stomach flipped. No, it couldn't be, I mean, how many bands are from New York? It is just because I was thinking of them a few minutes ago.  
  
Wasn't it?  
  
The audience applauded and Miranda went out and thanked them. She interviewed the singer for a few minutes, but I couldn't hear because the PA and Director were yelling back and forth. The members of the band began walking past me and I was relieved, yet slightly disappointed that I didn't recognize any of them.  
  
I walked toward the soundstage and the singer of the band turned the corner and almost walked into me. "Sorry, man." He said plainly, without really looking at me. It was him. His hair was longer and his eyes had dark circles under them, but I knew it was Roger before he opened his mouth.  
  
"No… no problem." I stuttered. Should I escape? Maybe he won't recognize me?  
  
He kept walking and didn't turn back.  
  
"Roger?" The word escaped my mouth before I thought it through.  
  
He turned around and looked at me, I watched the recognition wash over his face.  
  
"Mark?"  
  
I nodded. I smiled. I shifted my weight. "Hey."  
  
He stepped closer to me, moving closer and closer until he was only a few inches away. "Fuck off." He didn't yell, he just said it simply.  
  
"Roger…"  
  
"No… just fuck off." 


	3. Chapter Two

            "No… just fuck off."

            He pushed me slightly and turned around.  I stood mute for a minute trying to catch my breath.  He began to walk away.  "Roger… I'm sorry." 

            He stopped short at my words but he didn't turn around.  "I don't care."

            "Listen, can't we…"

            "No."

            "It's been five years!"  I plead to his back.

            He turned around and faced me, "Not my problem."

            "Come on, give me a chance to explain."

            "Mr. Cohen!  Mr. Cohen!"  Emma rushed towards me.  

            "Emma, I told you a million times, call me Mark."  I snapped at her.

            "I'm… sorry… Mark."

            "Fucking pathetic."  I heard Roger mutter under his breath as he turned away and walked out.  

            "Mark, you need to sign these before you go."

            "Just put them on my desk."  I started following him through the studio.  "Roger, wait."

            He doesn't and I followed him to the loading dock where the rest of his band was loading up their equipment into an old van. 

            "There he is!"  One of them yelled, "Hey Davis, your girlfriend is missing and so is my stash!"           

            "Fuck, where did she go?"

            "How would I know?

            "Fine, what did she take, then?"

            "The rest of my coke.  You better find me some before the gig tonight."  The tattooed drummer responded.

            "Yeah, whatever."  He ran out onto the street and looked around.

            "Roger?" I whisper.  "Is it Mimi?"

            He whipped around at the mention of her name.  "Where does this road go to?"

            "What?"

            "Well the hell does this road go to?" He spoke louder and more slowly.

            "It is a studio lot, there are productions going on all over.  Is it Mimi?"

            "I have to find her."  He said more to himself than to me.

            "Do you want me to call my security staff?"  I spit out.

            "No, just…" He seemed to soften for a moment but then looked at me, "No.  I can handle it.  I've been handling everything for the last five years."

            "I want to help."  I pull out my phone.

            "Mind your own fucking business!"  He pushed me out of the way and pulled out his own cell phone and started dialing.

            "Who's this guy?"  Another band member asked.

            "No one."

            "A friend."  I answer at the same time.

            "Roger, you know she'll come back.  She always does."  The band member stated, as if this happens all the time.

            "I know but I just want to get out here."  He glared at me as he said it.  "Now."

            "Is Mimi here?"  I insisted.  "I'll help you find her."

            "Just leave us alone.  We don't need you."

            "You never did."  I state simply.  
            He scoffed.  "Yeah right."  He moved the cell phone to his mouth and began talking into it, "Where are you?  Fine, I'll come get you.  Tony's pissed.  No, I'll come get you.  Just stay there!  No…"  He pulled the phone away.  "Fuck."  He looked at me, "Just go ok."

            "I want to see her."  He glared at me and shook his head.

            "No you don't.  Just go."

            "Why is she sick?"  I stepped closer, "Just tell me."

            "She's fucking dead, Mark."  

            I step back, "Then who…"

            "Roger?"  A voice came from around the corner.

            "Just go, Mark."

            I looked up to the figure walking towards us, skinny, beaten, a walking corpse.  

            "Maureen?"


	4. Chapter Three

A/N: Thanks all for the reviews… uh sorry for any injuries, failed tests or broken keyboards the last chapter may have caused. I think that is all for the major surprised, but who knows what I'll come up with. (I just have to say, working hard at work again and as I was typing this my boss came in and offered me a full time position. YAY! If she only knew I was sitting here writing fanfic. HEH.)  
  
"Maureen?"  
  
I stepped past Roger. "M…mark?" She began straightening her skirt, itching her nose, fixing her hair. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Come on, Maureen, let's go." Roger walked towards her and grabbed her arm, pulling her toward the van.  
  
"No!" She shimmied away from him. "It's Mark!" She stepped closer to me and stretched out her arms. I pulled her into an embrace. We held each other for a long time. I could hear Roger fuming next to us.  
  
I finally let her go, "You look good." She smiled up at me, rubbing my hair, which I now wear really short and no longer bleach.  
  
"You too."  
  
"Liar. I look like shit." She reached up to my face, "No more glasses?"  
  
"Oh right." I smiled, "I got contacts a few years ago."  
  
"Maureen, we have to go." Roger impertinently stated.  
  
"Fuck off, it's Mark."  
  
"Yeah, I know, but we still have to go."  
  
"Do you guys want to go out for coffee?" I stammer, still trying to grasp everything that is going on.  
  
"No." Roger said again. "I have to get to a gig." He grabbed Maureen's arm again and this time she followed him.  
  
"Bye-bye, Marky."  
  
"Wait, I… I want…" It was too late, they were already in the van and Tony was driving off. I couldn't even see Maureen. I stood there and watched the van turn the corner and then snapped out of my daze.  
  
What the hell was going on?  
  
I ran back into the studio past Emma, who was trying to get my attention again. I went into my office and closed the door, something that I never did. I quickly sat down at my computer and got on the net and did a search for the Twentynothings. To my surprise, there were a lot of sites dedicated to them. I found the official site and went to their tour dates and found the name of the club they were playing tonight.  
  
"EMMA!" I yelled and miraculously she appeared.  
  
"Yes, Mr.. .Mark?"  
  
"Do you know where the X Club is?"  
  
"Uh, yeah. Sort of."  
  
"Great, write down the directions, I have to call Vanessa."  
  
"Your not going to go there, are you?" She asked nervously.  
  
"Yeah, why?"  
  
"It's in a really bad neighborhood. Not safe at all."  
  
"Eh, I'll be fine." I dial my home number and press send.  
  
"No, I'm serious."  
  
"Emma, I used to live in the East Village. I'll be fine. Vanessa! Hey, look, change of plans. I have to take care of something tonight."  
  
"What do you mean? Our flight leaves in three hours."  
  
"Yeah, I know. I'm going to have to change flights." I grab the directions from Emma and wave to her as I leave.  
  
"Where are you going? If this is for a story…"  
  
"No, its not."  
  
"Then tell me."  
  
"I want to see this band. They are only playing tonight."  
  
"Are you kidding me? I've known you for two years and you have never gone to see a band. Who is it?"  
  
"Roger." I state simply. I get to my car and get inside. "I saw Roger today."  
  
"Roger? Like Roger Roger?"  
  
"Yeah. From New York. His band is playing at this club tonight and I really want to see them."  
  
"What did he say? What did you say?"  
  
"It didn't go well, that's why I want to talk to him."  
  
"Are you sure? Isn't he the reason you left New York?"  
  
"There were a lot of reasons. Vanessa, I have to do this."  
  
I heard her sigh, "Do you want me to come with you?"  
  
"No, it would probably be easier on my own."  
  
"OK, will you promise me to be in Scarsdale by tomorrow afternoon?"  
  
"Yeah, sure."  
  
"We have to meet with the Rabbi at 4:00. If we don't see him, he won't marry us."  
  
"Fine. I'll be there."  
  
"Mark, promise me."  
  
"I promise. Look, I'm getting on the Freeway, I need to go."  
  
"I love you."  
  
"I love you too."  
  
"Good luck, Mark."  
  
I hung up the phone and continued driving towards South Los Angeles in an area that I really hadn't been to before. I followed Emma's directions, and ended up getting lost. It took me about two hours to finally find the club, down an alleyway, with only a little sign. Of course, no one was there yet. It was only 7:00. Emma was right, this wasn't the best neighborhood, so I decided to go sit in my car and wait.  
  
What the hell was going on with Maureen? Were they actually together? What happened to Joanne… and Collins? Was Roger using again? Why was he so angry with me? A million scenarios filled my mind but none that I was satisfied with. Finally, about two hours later, the same van pulled up.  
  
I got out of my car and approached them, Tony saw me first. "He's baaack!" He sang.  
  
Roger climbed out of the van, "Fuck, don't you take a hint?"  
  
"I guess not." Roger shut the door behind him. "Where's Maureen?"  
  
"She's at the hotel, resting."  
  
"Oh." I looked to the ground. "Look, I don't know what to say."  
  
"There isn't much, is there?"  
  
I shook my head.  
  
"Why are you here, Mark?"  
  
"I'm worried… about Maureen."  
  
"You think you can swoop in and save the day? "  
  
"No, I just want to know what happened."  
  
"Why? You left."  
  
"I know. I'm sorry."  
  
"Davis, are you coming?" One of the band members yelled.  
  
"Yeah, I'll be there in minute." He turned back to me. "I don't want to hear your apologies, I just want know why you left, why you never called, why the hell did you disappear?"  
  
"I don't know exactly." I whisper.  
  
"Great. Ok then. Look, I have to go."  
  
"No, wait… I didn't think…" He glared down at me. "I didn't think you needed me."  
  
"But didn't you need us?"  
  
I remained silent.  
  
"You're a fucking idiot."  
  
"Why?"  
  
He shook his head at me. "Because you left when we needed you most."  
  
"No, you were ok… Mimi was ok."  
  
"Yeah, right. You keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better." He looked away for a moment, "You knew she was dying and you left me to deal with it on my own."  
  
"I know… I'm sorry."  
  
He straightened his body again. "Yeah, well it was fine. I dealt with it. I didn't need you after all."  
  
His words stung. "I'm… I'm glad."  
  
We stood in silence for a few minutes. Maybe there really wasn't anything left to say. "Well, I guess I should go." I stuttered, hoping he would ask me to stay.  
  
"Yeah, you probably should." I nodded.  
  
"It was good to see you." I waved and turned away.  
  
"Mark?" I stopped short. "I need you now. I need your help with Maureen."  
  
I closed my eyes and turned around. "What do you want me to do?" 


	5. Chapter Four

"What do you want me to do?"  
  
"I don't know." Roger looked at me with fear in his eyes. "I've tried everything."  
  
"Well what happened? How did she end up…" I took a deep breath; maybe that is the wrong choice of words. "When did she start using?"  
  
"I don't know exactly. After Mimi died I didn't go out much and I didn't see Maureen for a long time. And then when I did…" he suddenly stopped.  
  
"Go on..." I walked over to the van and Roger watched me.  
  
"Its just that… Fuck, Mark… I don't know. I don't even know where to start."  
  
"How about at the beginning?"  
  
"Roger!" Tony yelled. "We need you NOW! Sound check."  
  
"Look, I have to go. Why don't we talk to tomorrow?"  
  
"Yeah, ok." I pulled out my wallet and handed him a business card. "This has my cell number on it."  
  
"MARK COHEN, PRODUCER. Wow."  
  
"Yeah, no big deal." I smiled shyly.  
  
"I'll call you. We'll get some lunch and I'll fill you in."  
  
I smiled and nodded. But then I remembered. "Oh no, wait. I… I can't."  
  
"What do you mean, you can't? You just said you'd help me."  
  
"Yeah, I know. But I'm going out of town tomorrow."  
  
"Jesus Christ. I knew I couldn't depend on you." He scowled and pulled his jacket around him tighter.  
  
"No, I just…"  
  
"Forget it." He ripped my card into pieces and dropped them on the ground. "I'll handle it."  
  
"I could call you when I get back."  
  
He glared at me, "We leave LA on Friday."  
  
"I'll be back in a few weeks. I'll call you then."  
  
He scoffed, "Yeah, I've heard that before."  
  
"Roger, come on. I'm worried about her. About you."  
  
"We're fine, she's fine."  
  
"Look, I'll try and postpone my trip for a day, ok? We'll get lunch tomorrow and you can fill me in and I'll talk to Maureen." I desperately argued.  
  
"Don't do me any favors."  
  
"Roger! Now!" Tony yelled again.  
  
"I have to go." He turned around and walked into the club.  
  
I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Vanessa.  
  
No answer, voice mail. Of course, she is on the plane.  
  
"V… don't kill me, ok? I'm going to have to put off the trip one more day. Tell the Rabbi that I'm sick of something. I'll be there be Thursday. I'm calling the airline right now to change flights. I love you. Please understand."  
  
I hung up the phone, knowing that there is no way she will understand. How could she? Our wedding is in five days and I'm dealing with baggage from before I even knew her. Add on the fact that I never really told her about my years in New York, just short little snippets about the loft's lack of heating, or about the food at the Life Café. I never told her about the ugliness, because I wanted to leave it behind.  
  
That was why I left. After that second Christmas with Mimi almost dying, I began to explode. I was a walking time bomb. I felt the world closing in on me and no one even stopped to notice. Well almost no one. Collins did.  
  
I remember running into him at the Food Emporium, both of getting some cash from the ATM. He asked me to go for a walk with him and he wanted to know what was going on. He noticed that I had withdrawn more than usual since Mimi moved into the loft. I barely spoke a word to anyone.  
  
I told him that I felt like I didn't belong anymore. That I was getting nowhere with my film, had no ideas or energy. Mimi and Roger were in their own world, and they deserved it. They didn't need me around anymore.  
  
"Why don't you get away for awhile? Go back to school, find a job, finish your film. They'll understand."  
  
"Yeah, but… what if…"  
  
"No, what ifs Mark. You've taken care of everyone else; it is time to take care of yourself.  
  
So then I left. On the surface, I thought I would only go for a few months, but deep down I knew I needed to get away. I never really believed that I would go forever. I came to LA, found a job working at a TV show and started taking classes. Work and school and studying, day in and day out. Before I knew it, a year had passed and I finished up all my coursework to get my degree, and then I got promoted to director. New York City seemed like it was another lifetime ago and that was where I left it.  
  
"Hey sexy, you shouldn't be hanging out here by yourself." I looked up at the sound of the feminine voice, strolling over to me.  
  
"You're by yourself." I state coolly.  
  
"Yeah, but I know the band." She smiled sexily at me. "Come on, let's go in." Maureen grabbed my arm and began dragging me.  
  
"Why don't we go get something to eat?"  
  
"I'm not hungry." Maureen slurred.  
  
"You look like you haven't eaten in weeks. Come on, I'll buy."  
  
She smiled, "Ok, fine."  
  
I pulled her towards my car and opened the door for her. "Nice ride."  
  
"Thanks." I pulled out of the alleyway and past the line of kids waiting to get into the club. All these people were here to see Roger. Unbelievable. "Where do you want to go?"  
  
"Home." She said simply.  
  
I nodded. "The hotel?"  
  
"No, silly, home. The loft. Back when we all lived there, remember?"  
  
"That hasn't been home for a long time."  
  
"Yeah, but it was the best home I ever had."  
  
"What's going on with you, Maureen?"  
  
"I don't know… it is just that Roger infuriates me sometimes."  
  
"Yeah, ok, let's go back to that. You and Roger? Together? What happened to Joanne?"  
  
She shot me a look, "The bitch and I broke up a long time ago."  
  
"Oookay."  
  
"Look, I don't feel like rehashing all the dirt, ok? You should fucking know it all. You should have been there from the beginning."  
  
"I know, I know. I'm sorry."  
  
She itched her nose, "God, I wasn't even allowed to say your name. It was almost funny."  
  
"To who, Roger?"  
  
"Yeah. Jesus, did he hate you."  
  
I pulled the car over, "Because I left? He left all the fucking time!"  
  
"Yeah, but, he came back. You didn't."  
  
"I know… but…"  
  
"She waited for you." She said softly.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Mimi. She was dying and was waiting for you to come back. She held on for days longer than she should have."  
  
"Oh, God." I slumped down in my seat.  
  
"And Roger, he just kept holding her hand, rubbing her hair. He loved her so much… that was when I…" She shook her head, "Anyway, she finally couldn't hold on anymore and when she died, Roger wouldn't talk about her or you."  
  
I took a deep breath and fought the tears that were forming. "I… I didn't know."  
  
"Yeah, well, he moved out of the loft pretty quickly after that. None of us saw him for a long time. Not until Collins' funeral. Joanne and I had just broken up…"  
  
"Wait, backup. Collins?" The pit in my stomach grew even more, and the tears flowed freely.  
  
"Yeah, Mark, three years ago."  
  
I leaned my head against the steering wheel. "No…"  
  
Maureen shuffled next to me and pulled me closer to her. Across the center console she held me, rubbing the back of my neck the way she did so many years ago. "I'm sorry, Marky…" She pulled apart from the hug and traced my cheek with her finger, our eyes met and held for a moment.  
  
Then she leaned in and kissed me. 


	6. Chapter Five

A/N: Thanks for the reviews and they are of course still not mine except for Emma and Vanessa. They belong to Jonathan Larson. Keep up with the reviews and I'll keep writing!  
  
Then she leaned in and kissed me.  
  
It took me a moment to realize what was happening but as soon as I did, I pulled away. I wiped my mouth, "Maureen. Don't."  
  
She pouted at me, "What's wrong?"  
  
"Just… don't…"  
  
"Oh I should have known. Just take me back to the club." She rolled her eyes and sat back in the seat.  
  
"No… it's just that I'm get… Aren't you dating Roger?"  
  
"If you call it that."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I mean, we barely talk to each other, all we do is have sex… amazing sex…" I make a face, "But still. It would be nice to have a conversation."  
  
The thought of Roger and Maureen together entered my head, "Uh… when did you guys get together?"  
  
She looked out the window, tapping on the glass. "Two years ago, I guess. On and off. I… I was at a party and was pretty wasted and he walked in with a cute brunette. I started hitting on the brunette and he yelled at me. I yelled back and the next thing I knew, the brunette was forgotten and he and I were fucking in the back bedroom."  
  
"How romantic." I scoff.  
  
"Look, we don't need your fucking permission."  
  
"No, I know…"  
  
"So after that, it was sort of a causal thing. But somewhere along the line, we admitted we loved each other. It was the whole sordid past thing we were holding onto, you know? Neither of us was able to move on, to let go of Mimi and Collins… and even you." She shrugged.  
  
"Hmm…" I looked at her again, "But when did you start using?" I spitted out finally.  
  
She scratched her nose again and then tucked her hair behind her ear. "Oh, I don't know. A long time ago. I mean, even when we were together I used a little."  
  
"Yeah, like pot or X… but coke? What else are you taking?"  
  
She automatically tugged on her jacket sleeves and turned away. I grabbed her arm and pushed up the sleeve on her coat. There they were. The familiar sight of red dots tracing up and down her arm. She wouldn't look at me. "I'm sorry, Mark."  
  
I dropped her arm. "What about Roger?"  
  
"No… never… I mean, God, he has had so many opportunities. But he wouldn't. He left me for a while, when it got really bad. I don't know how I let it get so bad." She started crying, "I never expected to end up like this."  
  
"Then stop, Maureen. Come on, Roger did it… even Mimi did it…"  
  
"I… can't. I won't be able to. I've tried and I always go back. I'm not strong enough."  
  
"That's bullshit, and you know it."  
  
"Fuck off. You don't even know me anymore. I've failed at every thing I've ever done. I went to New York to be an actress, see my name in lights. I couldn't even wait tables! I failed at being gay for Christ's sake! First opportunity, back in bed with a man. Falling in love with a man. God."  
  
I took her into my arms again. She sobbed in my lap. I rubbed her hair, "We can get you help. I know a rehab that I could get you in tonight. Drew Barrymore went there when she was thirteen."  
  
I heard her laugh a little, "No. I can't."  
  
"Do you want me to get Roger? I'm sure he'll go with you."  
  
"Why do you even care, Mark?"  
  
"Because I care about you, I never stopped. You were my first love Maureen. You broke my heart into a zillion pieces, but I never stopped caring about you." She started crying even more as I spoke.  
  
She sat up, "I didn't think anyone cared about me."  
  
"I do. Roger does. And somewhere, Mimi, Collins and Angel are all looking down and praying that you fix yourself."  
  
"I don't know… maybe tomorrow."  
  
"Tonight, Maureen."  
  
"Fine, tonight."  
  
I couldn't' believe she agreed. It was so soft, I barely heard the words. I could see the exhaustion in her eyes. "Do you want me to get Roger?"  
  
She shook her head, "No, just you and me, ok?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
I pulled back onto the road and headed towards the rehab center I knew about. I secretly hoped I could get Maureen in, I really didn't know if I had enough clout.  
  
Maureen sat clumped over in the front seat, sobbing. Just as I was getting on the freeway, my phone began to ring. The caller ID was Unknown.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Mark, what the hell is going on there?"  
  
"Vanessa. Hey." I whispered. "Now's not a good time, I'll call you in the morning."  
  
"You better not! You better have you ass on a plane tomorrow morning."  
  
"I can't… honey… it's a long story."  
  
I heard her take a deep breath, "Mark, do you want to marry me on Sunday?"  
  
"Of course I do."  
  
"Then leave your past behind and face your future. Catch up with Roger tonight, then get here."  
  
"It isn't that simple, there is a lot…"  
  
"Mark, I don't want to be a bitch, but please, don't sour this week for me."  
  
"I know, I'm sorry." I glanced over at Maureen. "Things with them are really complicated and I…"  
  
"Them? Who else?"  
  
"Maureen."  
  
"Oh." I had told her about Maureen.  
  
"No, it isn't like that. Maureen and Roger are together."  
  
"Oh! Really? Wow!" I could hear the sound of relief in her voice, "Look, if you want, invite them to the wedding, I don't care, just get to Scarsdale!"  
  
"Thursday. I just need one more day."  
  
She sighed deeply, "If you are not here by Thursday afternoon…"  
  
"I promise." I pleaded.  
  
"Fine, do what you have to do. I'll call the Rabbi and change our appointment."  
  
"Thanks." I glanced over at Maureen, as I pulled into the Rehab Center's driveway. It wasn't like the places you see on TV. This was in the heart of the city, not a country estate. It freaked me out to even go there. "I love you Vanessa."  
  
"I love you too, Mark Cohen."  
  
I hung up the phone, "Who was that? Girlfriend?"  
  
"Sort of, yeah." I park the car. "You ready?"  
  
"I don't know." She raised an eyebrow at me, "What do you mean, sort of?"  
  
"Come on, let's go in."  
  
"Mark…"  
  
"Fine, she's my fiancée."  
  
"Your what?"  
  
"Fiancée. We're getting married. On Sunday, actually."  
  
Maureen stared at me for a second and shook her head. "Sunday." She repeated. "I can't do this. Take me somewhere else."  
  
"Mo, we're here. Come on."  
  
"No…" She opened the door and sprinted from the car. I quickly followed her and caught up. I grabbed on to her, but she kneed me in the groin. I doubled over and watched her hail a cab. She disappeared before I could even stand up. 


	7. She disappeared before I could even stan...

b(do html tags work?)  
  
A/N anyway… hi… you may or not noticed but I'm changing the way the chapters are titled because I hate the chapter 1,2,3 thing. But I don't know how to go back and change the older ones without erasing the reviews and such. Any advice? Anyway, here is my latest and greatest. I like this one. A lot of Roger and Mark bonding. (No not that kind! I save that for Alison… not that she reads my story, but yeah.)  
  
She disappeared before I could even stand up.  
  
"Maureen!" I yelled despite the fact the car was out of site. "Maureen! SHIT!" I brushed myself off and looked around. I remembered how she took off earlier and Roger panicked. Maybe she did this all the time. Fuck. I needed to call Roger. I took out my phone and hustled to the car. I called information and got the number for the club, they connected me automatically and a machine greeted me.  
  
I drove back to the club as quickly as I could. As soon as I saw the white van sitting in the same place I breathed a sigh of relief, at least I hadn't missed him. I parked across the street and walked toward the backstage door, immediately I was greeted by a bouncer. "I'm a friend of Roger Davis'." I pleaded.  
  
"Are you on the list?" He grabbed a clipboard from next to him.  
  
"Probably not… Mark Cohen?" I meekly stated.  
  
"Nope. Show's sold out. You are gonna have to go."  
  
"No, I need to talk to Roger. It is about his girlfriend!"  
  
"I don't give a shit. Get out of here, or I'll force you out." He shouted in my face, even louder than he meant to because the music stopped. I heard Roger thank the crowd and suddenly he was pushing past the bouncer. A bunch of girls appeared out of nowhere and circled around him.  
  
"Roger!" I yelled and he turned to me.  
  
"Hey, you're still here?"  
  
He made his way past the girls and the bouncer shrugged at me and turned his attention to the teens. Did he think I was a groupie? "Yeah, I actually left and came back."  
  
He nodded and took out a pack of cigarettes. I stared at him for a second and he held them out to me. "Want one?"  
  
"No… I'm good. Look, Roger… Maureen took off."  
  
He was fighting with the lighter, "What?"  
  
"She came here, and I took her for a drive and she agreed to get help but when I got her to the rehab center she took off. I tried to stop her."  
  
"FUCK!" He was still concentrating on the lighter. I didn't know if he was yelling at me or if it was the fact he couldn't smoke.  
  
"I don't know where she went."  
  
He finally got it lit and inhaled deeply. "Ok, let's go find her."  
  
"Roger, I wouldn't even know where to start. She got in a cab."  
  
"Where do people go to buy smack around here?"  
  
"You think I know?" I questioned. He just shook his head.  
  
"You know what? Forget it. I can't deal with it. She knows my number. She'll call me tomorrow, all fucked up, ready to be picked up."  
  
"But maybe we can stop her before…"  
  
"No, Mark, we can't. She's probably already wasted and fucking some random guy. It doesn't matter."  
  
"But she's your girlfriend, you love her, right?" He glared at me and shrugged. He was so non-committal about it. "You don't love her?"  
  
"Of course I do. But I've been dealing with this shit for too long. I'm tired, Mark. I'm tired of dating women who self-destruct. I don't know what it is about me."  
  
"It's not your fault. Mimi and April… they were already…"  
  
"And so was Maureen. I never said it was my fault." He sucked on his cigarette one last time before putting it out. Tony and the band members started coming out, they stopped and talked to the girls by the door.  
  
"We want Roger!" I heard one exclaim.  
  
"Look, let's get out of here." He said. "I need to get away from all this shit."  
  
"Sure, we can go to my place if you want." He nodded and I pointed to my car. We walked over and got in and I started driving. We remained silent for about five minutes. At first it was a comfortable silence, but the longer it stayed, I didn't know how to break it. I finally put on the radio and Roger commented that he liked the song. I smiled and said I did too.  
  
It was almost as if no time had past.  
  
Almost.  
  
"So, producer, huh?"  
  
"Yeah." I smiled, "It's a tacky late morning talk show, but it is fun. I like it."  
  
"What about filmmaking?"  
  
I remained silent and let the question linger. "So you band, they seem to be doing well."  
  
He nodded, "Yeah, I guess. It isn't as much fun as I thought. I hate touring more than anything."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yeah, living out of a bag sucks. I wish we could just play weekly gigs in New York or something. But the guys, they wanted to tour."  
  
"At least you got to bring Maureen with you."  
  
"I guess." He pulled out his pack of cigarettes, "Do you mind?"  
  
I think for a moment, "Nah, it's ok. Just unroll the window."  
  
"So you never finished your film, huh?"  
  
"No." I turned the corner onto my street and park. "Honestly, once I got out here, I never even worked on it."  
  
"Really? Why not?" We got out of the car and crossed the street to my apartment. It is a small building, two stories high with about ten apartments in it. Nice, but not luxurious.  
  
"I don't know. It was hard, I guess. I got a job, went to school. Every time I thought about it, I wouldn't dare touch them. Soon the stuff got buried under other things and then I moved and it all was put in a box in the back of my closet."  
  
I opened the door and motioned for him to come in. It was obvious that someone else lived here, because the place was spotless. Sitting on our TV, was an engagement picture of Vanessa and me. Roger noticed it right away. "Who is that?"  
  
"Vanessa. She's my fiancée." I tossed my keys and wallet on the table and sorted through the mail that Vanessa left behind. Maybe if I acted casual things will be ok.  
  
"Fiancée? You're getting married?"  
  
"Yeah." I dropped the mail. "Sunday, actually."  
  
"No shit." He looked around the apartment. "Where is she?"  
  
I laughed, "Long Island. At her parent's place. I'm supposed to be there too."  
  
He looked away for a moment "That's where you had to go? Your wedding and honeymoon?"  
  
"Yeah." I shrugged and walked into the kitchen. "I changed my flight until Thursday, no big deal. Do you want something to drink?" I opened the refrigerator and looked through it. "We have coke, milk, beer, orange…"  
  
"You are a fucking idiot!" He appeared in the kitchen, laughing. "Why didn't you just tell me where the hell you were going?"  
  
"You thought I was running away again. I wanted to prove you wrong." I closed the refrigerator. "I'm sorry that I left like that. I meant to come back and if I knew about Mimi…"  
  
"Just don't. I can't rehash it, ok?"  
  
"Yeah, sure."  
  
"You're getting married. I can't believe it. What's she like?" He opened the refrigerator and grabbed a beer.  
  
"Well she's smart and funny and… I don't know. You'll just have to meet her."  
  
He smiled, "Yeah, I will." He walked back over to the picture, "She's cute. Reminds me of someone."  
  
"Yeah, I know."  
  
"April." He took a step back. "Holy shit." I sat down on the couch, not sure what to say. It was the first thing I noticed about Vanessa. Luckily, that was where the similarity ended.  
  
"You know, I almost forgotten what she looked like. I don't have any pictures of her."  
  
"I do." I said, mentally finding them. "I mean, if you want to see… I have tons of pictures and other stuff."  
  
"Yeah, that might be good."  
  
I got up and went into the bedroom closet. I pulled out an unmarked box, one that questioned and never answered. The photos were still in the same envelope that I picked up from the drug store where they were developed. I quickly flipped through them to make sure they were the right ones. Roger followed me in and I handed him the envelope.  
  
He sat down on the floor of the room and looked at each picture individually. They were from our first few months in New York. "Wow, look at this one."  
  
He passed me a picture of Maureen, April, Roger and me. "Wow." We were all huddled together, laughing. "I wonder who took that."  
  
"Collins or Benny probably. It's funny, I almost forgot they were best friends."  
  
I stared at the picture, "Me too." It all flooded back to me. Benny met this NYC student and wanted to go to a party. He dragged Roger and me along with him and after about ten minutes we were ready to go. We walked outside and April was finishing up a cigarette and Maureen was yelling at her to hurry up. Roger asked if they were going to the party, convinced them they didn't want to, and the four of us went out to a bar. I of course, stuttered through my conversation with Maureen, but she found me endearing. Roger and April hit it off right away. Roger invited them over to the loft the next night. They came over; we all drank a lot and the four of us split into twos. The girls moved in a couple of months later when the lease on their apartment ran out.  
  
Roger was still sorting through pictures, and again he stopped and looked at one closely. "Damn, she's fucked up here."  
  
"Who, April?"  
  
He shook his head, "No, Maureen. Look." He handed me the picture and I recognized it as one I took. Her eyes were droopy and she was lying back on the couch, ready to fall asleep.  
  
"No, she was just about to sleep."  
  
"Mark, I know Maureen, and I know that look. She was high." He pulled out another picture, "Here, look."  
  
I looked at the picture, "No, this is when we were together. She never…"  
  
"Wake the fuck up Mark. Where do you think Maureen and April disappeared to all those nights? Why do you think she stopped coming home after awhile?"  
  
"Because she was cheating on me."  
  
"Yeah, with smack."  
  
"No… you're wrong."  
  
He shoved the pictures back in the envelope. "Fine, believe what you want." He tossed the pictures at me. I pulled them out and began looking at the again. He was right of course. I recognized the lost look in her eyes as the same I saw in Roger and Mimi and April so many times before. How did I miss it then?  
  
"You know what is weird?" He spoke, more to himself then me. "I can still hear them. All of them. Exactly what they sounded like when they told me they loved me."  
  
I smiled at that. "They all did, too." I stop and think for a moment, "I remember Collins' deep voice and Angel…"  
  
"Yeah, and Mimi's high pitched squeal when she got excited."  
  
"And the way April sang."  
  
"Yeah, shit, she could sing like I never heard before. What a waste." He got off the floor. "Mark?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"What if I forget their voices?"  
  
"You won't," I stately sternly.  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"Because I'm going to finish my film, and you'll be the first to get a copy."  
  
"No offense, but I've hearing that for almost ten years."  
  
"Yeah, but, now I have a reason."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"Maureen. Maybe is she sees Mimi and April again…"  
  
"I don't know…"  
  
I was already digging through my closet, pulling out first the projector and then the boxes of long forgotten film. "Come on, we'll do it tonight."  
  
"What the hell do I know about filmmaking?"  
  
"Nothing. But you know everything about the subjects." 


	8. I noticed him on the first day of class

A/N Woot the angst! I was totally stuck on the last part so I shifted gears a bit. This is a filler typed of chapter, we'll get back to the boys the next time. Please review!  
  
  
  
I noticed him the first day of class. Acting and Film. He came in just as the instructor was introducing himself and sat just outside the circle. He was cute, disorganized, constantly pushing his glasses up on his nose, he apologized for his lateness, and turned bright red. I liked his glasses, they suited him, I could tell that much. He had on that red plaid jacket that he still wore years later. My grandfather had that coat and used to go chop wood in it.  
  
Mark was quirky and I took notice.  
  
He spoke out all the time, spouting out opinions about theory, and light, and subtext in filmmaking. He was a fan of subtext, didn't like to be told what to think, but instead he liked to figure it out. He was smart and passionate, and I couldn't help thinking about him after class. He had this unique way about him, all the girls in the class had crushes on him, but he never noticed. He never even stopped to try.  
  
I decided I wanted him.  
  
I waited for him after class. He and the professor were debating about some independent filmmaker that I had never heard of. The rest of the class had long been gone and students for the next class were waiting in the hall for them to be done. He finally came out and walked right past me.  
  
"Mark!" He kept walking, his mind obviously on something else. "Mark!" I approached him and tapped his shoulder.  
  
"Oh, hey." He pulled off his headphones, "Marie, right?"  
  
"Maureen."  
  
"Oh sorry." He looked down and shrugged, his face turning red again.  
  
"It's ok, Mark." I flirted, "Look, do you have a partner for the next project?"  
  
"Uh, yeah. Professor Rainey assigned us partners, remember?"  
  
"Oh right." I could tell he didn't realize what I was asking, I would have to be more abrupt with this one. "Would you like to go out to a movie tonight?"  
  
He looked up with me with such complete shock, it was as if I asked him if he wanted to drop to the floor and fuck. "Oh… uh…"  
  
"It would be fun to get to know each other." I smiled and blinked my eyes while I touched the sleeve of his coat.  
  
He pulled his arm away, "No, I don't think so. I have a lot of work to do."  
  
It was my turn to be shocked.  
  
No guy had ever turned me down before.  
  
"Oh… uh… ok."  
  
"Sorry, Maria." He shrugged and put his headphones back on.  
  
I didn't talk to him again the rest of the semester but I couldn't forget the rejection. He was cute and the more he babbled away about film the more I wanted him.  
  
Of course the semester ended, and I didn't think I would ever see him again.  
  
It wasn't until two years later, in a different city that we met again.  
  
I recognized Mark right away, and smiled at him, trying to induce any relocation on his part. Roger mistook that smile to be towards him and he started talking to April and me. April wanted to go the party, but I discreetly motioned to her that I thought Mark was cute and we were on our way.  
  
I wasn't going to let him get away that time.  
  
It is so easy to go back in time. I can almost see both of those scenes as if I was watching one of Mark's films. Instead, I'm here, crashing, desperate and tired. As I walked down Hollywood Boulevard, I silently congratulate myself for finally making it there.  
  
My mind wanders back to him.  
  
Mark was getting married. That's it for him and me. There will never be an us again.  
  
Now the us is Roger and Maureen.  
  
Roger and Maureen. I know he is only with me out of guilt. He is trying to save me because he couldn't save April or Mimi. He can't save me, no one can.  
  
No one but him.  
  
But now, he isn't going to be there for me.  
  
I should have known that he would find someone. I let him go, I tell myself and the ache in my veins throb. He moved away and forgot us. How could I blame him?  
  
"Hey baby, want a date?" The girls I walk by cackle to the men driving past.  
  
"Do you know where I can get something?" I stopped to ask one of the girls.  
  
"Sure, sweetie, of course." She smiled at me. I imagined that she was from a farm in Iowa and came to Hollywood to make it big, and ended up here. Isn't that how it always happens? "Come with me."  
  
I followed her down the street and into a building. "Max hooks up all the girls." She stated as we walked up the stairs. She knocked on a door and I entered and immediately saw a gun pointed at me. "Give me everything, bitch." The girl stood there laughing  
  
"Uh…" I looked around but she was blocking the door and he was walking toward me  
  
First he took my cell phone, the little bit of money I had, my jewelry. The prostitute wanted my shoes, so she took those too. "Here's your smack, bitch." He pushed me to the ground, and I banged my head against the floor.  
  
He and the girl took off, leaving me alone.  
  
I sobbed, praying for someone to rescue me, to take me away.  
  
But no one did. 


End file.
